The Magic of Hogwarts (revised)
by E.A Grace
Summary: The wall clock reads fifteen minutes till eleven. The newspapers indicate that today is the first of September. King's Cross Station is bustling... Here our fairytales begin.
1. Prologue

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 **o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o**

 _PROLOGUE_

 **o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o**

 **…**

 **..**

 **.**

 _The wall clock reads fifteen minutes till eleven. The newspapers indicate that today is the first of September._

 _King's Cross Station is bustling. The sounds of children laughing and parents yelling create a hum in the air. The smell of coffee and cigarettes waft through the station._

 _While it feels like any other day, there are signs that it isn't. Every year on this particular day, groups of peculiar looking people from all around the United Kingdom flock to this particular train station. They drag along trunks filled with clothing and school supplies. They cart around strange animals—owls and rats and toads. They buzz about spells and charms and a place called Hogwarts._

 _These people tread through the station with caution, weary of others. Their voices, though animated, are incredibly hushed. They are as discreet as they can be._

 _When they arrive between platforms 9 and 10 they wait until they are certain no one is watching. Then they head straight for the wall that separates the two platforms. Instead of crashing as one would expect, the witches and wizards arrive comfortably at Platform 9 ¾._

 _Here our fairytales begin:_

 _A wealthy teenager sneaks away and sees a scruffy young pick-pocket._

 _A red haired vixen with a secret swims through the stream of people._

 _A conspiring Chinese girl stumbles past a rather annoyed young man._

 _A young brute crashes into a distracted beauty._

 _A sunshine blonde searches for her two best friends._

 _–The first is escaping two stepsisters._

 _–The second is evading a stepmother._

 _Two sisters walk together; one holds things in, the other lets things out._

 _One girl closes her eyes and imagines painting with the colors of the wind._

 _A fiery haired maiden storms away from her unbearable mother._

 _An arrogant teen flirts with a girl who ignores him and a girl who adores him._


	2. And So It Begins

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 **o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o**

 _CHAPTER I_

 **o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o**

 **...**

 **..**

 **.**

 **And so it begins…**

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

Jasmine sometimes hates her father. Bodyguards. Onlyhe would make her bring along bodyguards to the station. They're inspecting the train. For what, she can't imagine. It's ironic that not a single one notices when she escapes out of eyeshot.

She feels almost normal as she walks away, as she becomes just another face in the crowd. No fancy robes, just a tank top and jeans. She looks like an Arabian girl who's grown up in England, not the daughter of one of the richest wizards in the world.

Jasmine's eyes settle on a pick-pocketer. He is presumably her age. She can't make out his face exactly, but that shaggy, long black hair... she's seen it before.

His victim is "the Devil," Cruella de Vil. He manages to get a handful of her coins. Immediately, he tosses them to a couple of beggar children, who thank him profusely. Jasmine is impressed. She can tell by the state of his clothing, a little too small, a little too worn, he could have used that money.

"You know the ancient Arabs used to cut off the hands of those who thieved," She remarks, stepping closer to him, "Even if it was with the best intentions."

He spins around, "You know, you don't have to assume I'm Arabic because-"

His eyes are filled with surprise as he sees her face.  
He mutters something she cannot make out, leaving the sentence to die unfinished.  
"Excuse me?" she asks.  
He shakes his head. "You're not going to rat me out are you?"  
She shrugs. "It's the Devil's fault for carrying around that much money, and you used it better than she could have."  
His eyebrows shoot up at the nickname, drawing attention to a pair of gorgeous brown eyes. Jasmine takes him in, internally blushing as she notes that the whole tall dark and handsome thing works on him very well.

"Cruella de Vil, the millionaire," Jasmine clarifies.

He seems to recognize the name.

"That explains why she only had galleons in her purse."

Those brown eyes are still fixed on her.

Jasmine nods. It's silent for a moment.

"So, do you play Robin Hood often?"

"I guess so," he replies.

Jasmine likes his nonchalant tone, the way he doesn't seem to regard his behavior as something unusual. She likes how he seems like he has nothing to hide. She wishes she could be like that.

She considers not asking him her next question, but her curiosity beats out her polite nature.

"Do you ever feel guilty?"

He doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Do you ever feel guilty seeing people starve while you get meals everyday? Does it seem right that some people have more money than they know what to do with while some people can't even get by?"

The way he says it is so passionate, she does feel guilty.

"Yes, but there's a reason stealing is wrong," she says, her voice faltering a little on the last word.

Stealing is wrong. She knows this, but something about him is making her reconsider.

"There's a reason people do 'wrong' things."

In that moment, she wants to take his hand. She wants to ask him to sit with her on the train. She wants to get to know this Robin Hood boy with his piercing brown eyes and his disillusioned attitude.  
Before she gets a chance to say anything else, though, the bodyguards rush in.

"Miss Jasmine Agrabah, your father wanted you on the train upon arrival."

The thief glances between her and the guards. Jasmine can see the shift in his expression. Surprise for sure. He's recognized her name.

" Princess ," he spits out the title, "you better go."

He stalks off. A part of her considers running after him, with some kind of an explanation, asking for his name, at least. Before she can even think through the idea, her bodyguards, whose names she never could remember, lead her to the train. Which is probably fortunate. What would she have said to a boy she's only known for five minutes?

They reach her luggage and her lion cub, Rajah, who is leashed. And not very happy about it, if the scratch marks on Bodyguard 3 are any indication. They guards load her things away.

Jasmine scoops up her pet.

"Come on Rajah, let's go."

Rajah nuzzles close to her, and she takes them to the usual compartment, but before she can open the door, it opens from the inside..

"JAZ!" Ariel screams, right in Jasmine's face before pulling her into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much! Tell me all about your summer! I know you wrote me like every week, but still!"

Jasmine hugs her back and doesn't pull away, "I've missed you too, Ariel."

They sit down on the comfy cushioned seats. "So was your summer really as boring as the letters?"

"Yeah," Jasmine sighs, "it was a bunch of Disney Society meetings and business dinners."

"No boys?" Ariel pouts.

"Unless you count Ahmed." Jasmine rolls her eyes.

"The arrogant asshole you tried to have Rajah attack does not count." Ariel affirms. "Anyone else?"

The door swings open before she can answer.

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

Ariel considers herself quiet when compared to Rapunzel.

"ARIEL! JASMINE! It's so great to see you guys!" Rapunzel practically yells. She looks as eager as ever. Right behind is her cousin, Anna, who waves.

"Hey Blondie," Ariel replies, "Great to see you two, too."

Rapunzel glares.

"Fine," Ariel waves her hands in defeat, "I'm sorry,Rapunzel ."

Rapunzel smiles again and pulls Jasmine, Anna, and Ariel into a big hug.

"I still don't understand why only Rider can use the name," Ariel complains.

An obnoxious voice replies, "Did somebody call for Flynn Rider?"

Ariel rolls her eyes. "No."

"Good to see you too, Red," he calls, sitting down on the other side of Rapunzel.

"Why are you here, don't you know the train ride is girl time?" Ariel asks, annoyed.

"Hey I haven't seen Blondie here in two whole days." he replies with a cheeky grin.

Ariel glares at him. "Yes that's much worse than how me and Jasmine haven't seen her in three months ."

"I'm glad you understand."

She scowls at him again.

"Fine, fine, fine," he sighs, getting up from his seat, "I just wanted to say hello to my girlfriend."

He turns to Rapunzel and says "hey," in his cheesy "sexy" voice.

She gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "Goodbye, Flynn."

"I can't believe your parents let him stay over at your house all summer," Jasmine says after the door shut.

"Well he was the one that introduced them." said Anna.

Ariel shakes her head, "Still what kind of parents let their teenage daughter's boyfriend stay with them all summer? I mean, it's like they were asking for a teenage pregnancy."

Rapunzel turns as red as a tomato. Jasmine gives Ariel a warning look.

Ariel doesn't stop there though (she never stops), "Speaking of which, spill. How 'far' have you gone?"

Rapunzel's blush deepens even more.

"Oh come on, I'm only fourteen! We haven't gotten past kissing and we're both okay with that," she says definitely.

Ariel snorts, "Oh really? I bet Rider's suffering from blue balls. He's been a man whore since he was fourteen."

Jasmine elbows Ariel again. Hard.

"Anyway, who wants to play a game of Exploding Snap?"

The group assents. Just as Jasmine has finished dealing the cards, there's a knock at the door.

Anna answers it.

"Hi, Flynn!" she starts as he, followed by two other guys, walks in, "And hi, Flynn's friends!"

Ariel opens her mouth to protest, but Flynn interrupts her.

"Look," he explains holding up a large quantity of sweets from the trolley, "Some seventh years took our compartment. Can we stay?"

"Depends," she considers, "How many chocolate frogs do you have?"

One of his mates throws her a few packs. The bloke with the weird accent.

Ariel gives an appreciative nod. "Well then, I suppose I'll make an exception."

"Thank you very much," weird accent guy says, sitting down next to Ariel and discreetly taking a glance at her chest. Pervert. Jasmine would say she should wear things that were less revealing if she didn't want them to stare. She didn't understand Ariel's clothing choices. She didn't understand Ariel's annoyance with clothes.

The same way none of her friends would understand if Ariel explained what she really did over the summer while they visited their parents and traveled.

Jasmine redeals the cards for a tournament. Anna whips Flynn's whimpering ass. Maldonia makes clever wisecracks. Jasmine and Aladdin exchange looks. Ariel likes the bigger group well enough.

She is relieved though, when the guys find their a separate carriage for the second part of the journey to Hogwarts.

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

Mulan doesn't notice the other girls come in. She can only think about the plan, which has come far from the fledgling idea it was in the Pre-Victory Game Tea.

The Disney Society, one of the of the most prestigious witches' societies in Europe, had of course hosted the Tea. The "mothers" were ecstatic at the chance to introduce their "daughters" to "the nice young gentlemen" competing in the games. Mulan had been the only girl except Merida DunBroch at the event who would have rather competed in the games than participate in the "Tea for Two."

"Tea for Two" was supposed to be a way for the kids to mingle. A thirty minute blind date. To Mulan, it seemed just plain awkward. And she had the bad luck of being paired with Gaston Chasseur, who spent the entire time bragging about the team he was putting together for the Games. As the brawniest seventh year (ever) he was chosen to be captain of the team. Technically he was supposed to organize the team and such, but he was leaving most of the responsibility to his second-in-command, Shang Li. He just had a vague outline of the type of people he wanted.

"So are you going for a half boy half girl team or—?" Mulan remembers trying to ask before immediately being interrupted.

"Ha! There's no way some bird is getting on my team. No girl has ever won the games. They'd just bring us down with their worries of breaking a nail."

Mulan had gritted her teeth, and said, "There's only been four games played."

"Exactly, and a guy has one every single one of them."

"That doesn't mean—"

"That means guys are better than girls."

She remembered being so angry she couldn't speak.

Gaston had continued with, "And if guys are better than girls, then why have any girls on the team?"

That was when she couldn't take it anymore.

"You—you—you!" Mulan had shoved the tablecloth at him. "You sexist pig!"

Boiling tea splashed all over him.

Everyone had stared at Mulan, who blushed a bright red and ran into a bathroom.

Mulan could still see the tired look on her father's face at that moment, all disappointment and shame as she sped past him. He was her favourite person in the world, the only one she couldn't stand to disappoint-the reason she went to those stupid Disney Society events anyway, the man who always talked about the importance of honour… and she had let him down.

After sulking about the whole ordeal, Mulan had left the bathroom to whispers and wagging tongues:

"—she was so rash—"

"—with a temper, and ideas like that she's never going to find a husband—"

"—Poor Zhou, having to live with such a disgraceful daughter—"

"—he man just had the misfortune of having a girl—"

"—imagine if he had a son instead, someone to bring him honour instead of shame him—"

And then she'd struck a plan: if the Fa family needed a son, then they'd get one.

She would join the Victory Games Team as a guy, win, then reveal that it was her all along. All she had to do was brew the potion. The same one Joan of Arc had used so many centuries ago. The same one every witch has used to masquerade as a wizard.

Mulan had squirmed when she first heard of it. She couldn't imagine being a guy. Thankfully, the spell only made a girl look and sound more masculine.

Reviewing the plan one more time in her head, Mulan decides that it's practically foolproof. But there are still some things that could go wrong. What if someone realizes Fa Zhou doesn't have a son? What if someone sees her taking the potion? What if she fails and she doesn't get to see the smug look come right off of Gaston's face? What if she doesn't make her father proud? What if?

Then what? She'd have to return to trying to become a socialite? Ha, Mulan isn't as pretty as a social darling should be (at least, that's what she thinks). And even if she was, she has no grace, nor manners. She is intolerably clumsy. She has no sense of style. She can't cook. She can't dance. She's an awful hostess.

No matter how hard she'd tries, she can't be that girl; she can't be the person they want her to be.

Hopefully, being Fa Ping will be enough. Hopefully, Ping will be better at being a brave son than Mulan had been at being a dainty daughter.

Mulan looks out the window of the carriage. The time for thoughts is over. The Welcoming Feast will soon begin.

* * *

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed. I'd appreciate reviews/favorites very much. Thank you! :)

This is beta-ed by my lovely friend Crystal. Thank you so much to Stillness Tolls for letting me know about the format error.


	3. Meeting and Greeting

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 _CHAPTER II_

 **o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o.*.o.*o.O.o*.o**

 **…**

 **..**

 **.**

 _ **Meeting and Greeting…**_

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

The Beast is not happy. But then again he hasn't been happy in a very long time. He hasn't been happy since before Hogwarts. Since before his parents divorced. Since before the incident that made him "the Beast." This day however, he feels particularly unhappy. The morning had been bad. He'd woken up to cruel sunlight burning his eyes and a throbbing hangover. He had thought his dad had skipped breakfast, the only meal they shared, but the reality was worse: he'd woken up late and would have missed the train altogether had it not been for some (technically illegal) apparition. It was a terrible morning, a prelude to a likely terrible year at the most annoying place in the world.

Even now, a good hour later, settled somewhat comfortably into his seat, the Beast is not happy. He's restless. Only one year left. One year before it's all permanent.

He tries to focus on the view of the school looming before him, getting closer. He tries to think about the new Quidditch magazine he'd been owled before he'd left. But that just makes him think about the girl, the pretty girl he'd crashed into at the station, who'd been reading a massively thick book rather than the latest edition of Witch Weekly. What kind of story was so good people could tolerate all the words? He thinks back to the glint in her eyes as she turned the page. What kind of novel could make someone so...overjoyed?

She must be a Ravenclaw. Probably sixteen by the looks of her. Not a quidditch player, he would have seen her in one of his Slytherin vs Ravenclaw matches.

She was happy though.

Her smile was genuine.

Her horror was too. Her horror at him. Of course. He's a beast. Who wouldn't be horrified? That doesn't stop him from snarling at the thought, though.

His emotions escalate from there until he's trashing at the carriage seats. Luckily, they don't break. He kicks and punches for a while then finally he calms down and forces himself to breathe.

Control yourself. Don't give into the Beast.

He repeats the command till he's seated in his regular spot at the edge of the furthest Slytherin table.

Somehow, his eyes wander to her. She's sitting alone at a Ravenclaw table, watching the sorting intently.

The Sorting Hat screams "GRYFFINDOR!" And she laughs as Franny Framagucci's toad jumps off her lap and into the arms of a bewildered Lewis Robinson. He likes her laugh. She looks knowingly at the reassuring glance the newly sorted Fawn Swanson gives Silvermist Waters. The Beast cannot tell what it is about the way they look at each other that makes the Ravenclaw girl smile, but somehow it makes him smile too. He watches her watch an abundance of people get sorted into Hufflepuff. Iridessa Ray. Lilo Pelekai. Rosetta Gardner. There are a few students sorted into other houses too, of course. Vidia Gale, with her fierce glare and anti social vibe fits every Slytherin stereotype. John Darling, with the thoughtful look in his eyes who joins his older sister in Ravenclaw. Lastly, there is Tinkerbell Zimmermann. The hat spends a good ten minutes on her and when it finally chooses "RAVENCLAW," the little blonde tries to argue that it must be a mistake.

The Ravenclaw beauty looks bothered by this.

Headmaster Mouse begins his speech, but the Beast doesn't care enough to pay attention. A part of him is still considering the girl's identity. A part of him hopes she's Belle Dumas. That's kind of sick, hoping that the girl you're interested in is the one that's meant to be your servant for the year, but whatever. The Beast is sick.

She probably isn't Belle. He'll find out soon though. Miss Dumas is supposed to meet him in the Slytherin dorm at seven.

There's a knock at his door at precisely six fifty-nine.

He answers.

The Ravenclaw girl is standing outside, shivering. She's beautiful even as the corners of her mouth turn downwards in a frown, even as her large brown eyes glare at him.

"Come in," he says, hoping his voice sounds normal.

She follows.

"I'll show you to your room." He leads her down the corridor, to a door on the right.

Inside is a room, almost as nice as his own bedroom. Father's connections are fortunate at times.

"I hope you like it here," he adds as she steps inside. "You can go wherever you like, just not-" his voice catches, "the West Room."  
Her eyes light up. "What's in the West Room?"  
His reacts immediately, nearly roaring, "It's forbidden!"

She's afraid. Of course she is.

He catches control of himself. "Just don't go in there… please."

She nods, solemn.

"Is there anything in particular you want me to do?" She finally asks, voice small.

The Beast replies, "Assignments, cleaning."

Then he adds impulsively, "Eating with me."

"Okay."

And then the real question bursts out, "Is my father okay?"

"He's returning home right now."

"Okay," she manages again.

"If there isn't anything you need right now, I think I'm going to try to sleep." Her eyes are misty.

It's too early for bed.

"Of course."

He closes the door.

He can hear her muffled sobs. He hates himself a little more than usual.

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

On the other side of the castle, at Gryffindor Tower, a party is in full swing. A party that Briar Rose feels out of place in. Briar Rose hates parties. Crowds make her uncomfortable.

But her friends, who she hasn't seen in months, like parties, so of course she's there. She glances over at them . Snow has side bangs now and Ella has grown an inch. Otherwise they're the same.

Phillip on the other hand has changed a lot.

He's grown again, 3 inches at least, and he's cut his hair differently. And, he must have changed his exercise regime because, well, he looks more muscular. He's always been… err... toned, but now… he is something else entirely.  
He's fit. Hot. Sexy. Attractive. Charming. Alluring. Handsome.  
Of course, he's never been ugly, just maybe a bit… awkward, a little gangly, too tall and thin.  
He's changed so much.  
Phillip interrupts her thoughts, "Hey, having fun?"

"Hmm?" Briar looks up, "Yeah."  
He hands her a drink. "It's butterbeer, don't worry."  
She nods and takes it.  
They stand there, uncertain of what to say.  
"How was your summer?" Briar starts, just as Phillip asks, "How've you been?"  
She laughs. "I've been okay. The Aunts are acting strange though. I think it's because of my sixteenth birthday coming up. I swear they're like Americans, all obsessed with how that's when you're considered a 'lady'." She turns up her nose at the last word and tries to pronounce it as snootily as she can.  
He shakes his head, chuckling. "As for my summer, I've been good—"  
"Well," Briar corrects automatically.

"Well," he continues. "My dad actually came on a few hunting trips with me this summer. Father-son bonding time." He rolls his eyes, "I'm pretty sure he only knows two things about me: I have my mother's eyes, and I can hunt."

Briar chuckles and shakes her head.  
"Oh wait, no there's one more thing he knows," Phillip adds, "I'm the perfect way for him to make this huge deal with Stefan Industries. He wants me to start going out with the CEO's daughter—"  
Briar feels a pang in her heart, which she quickly attributes to sympathy.  
"—who, get this, doesn't even exist."  
"What?"  
"I googled her and nothing came up."  
Briar rolls her eyes, "Some people keep their lives private."  
"That's what I thought at first too," he retorts, "so I did a tracking spell, not to actually find her, but to make sure she was real—"  
She rolls her eyes again.  
"—and it didn't work."  
"Have you forgotten you got a troll on the tracking test?" Briar teases.

He sticks out his tongue, and something about the action reminds her that, even with all his ramblings, this bigger, "manlier" guy is still the same Little Philly.  
"I'm sure she does exist," Briar smiles, but it feels forced for some reason, "And I bet she's wonderful."  
"I'm supposed to meet her at this huge party her parents are throwing for her. The date's not set, but would you like to go with me?" he asks.  
"I-I'd love to, but I wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea and get all offended or something."  
Briar's cheeks burn.

He shrugs, putting an end to the whole conversation, and turns to his friend Florian. They start talking about Quidditch matches and hunting trips. Briar fidgets in her seat. Any second now...  
Florian turns to Snow, and Briar lets out a sigh.

"Snow, I've missed you." He smiles. "I didn't think it was possible for you to get any more beautiful, but you've done it."  
Snow shakes her head and laughs, "Thank you, Florian."  
Florian's grin widens.

"Listen, I was thinking about you this summer, and I had this amazing idea: why don't you be my girlfriend?" he asks, as if it wasn't the thousandth time. Briar considers burying her face in her hands.  
Snow grins. "I had an amazing idea too, this summer. What if we all got pen pals from Beauxbaton or Durmstrang? Since they're coming for the games and all."  
"I like your idea. How do you feel about mine?"  
She shrugs, "It doesn't seem very original, to be honest."  
Florian gives a resigned nod. "Alright, that's fair. Would you like a drink?"  
She asks for a spiked butterbeer and he goes off. As soon as he's gone, Briar taps Snow's shoulder.  
"Stop torturing the poor boy," she commands. "Either tell him you'll be his girlfriend or tell him you just want to be friends. You can't just leave him wondering like that."  
Snow refuses to meet her eyes. "I can do whatever I want."  
"Do you even fancy him?" Briar asks, for the millionth time.

"Do you fancy Phillip?" Snow counters.  
Briar chokes on a sip of butterbeer, "What?"  
"Oh please, don't act like you haven't been making cow eyes at him the last hour!"  
"What?" Briar repeats, still flabbergasted.  
"I understand of course, I mean he's really grown into himself now," Snow continues. "But do you fancy him, or do you just think he's fit?"  
Briar stares at her friend, wishing she could hide her blush.

"You fancy him!" Snow exclaims triumphantly.  
Ella chooses that moment to join us on the sofa, "Briar fancies who?"  
"Whom," Briar corrects, still dazed.  
"Phillip," Snow answers, grinning.  
"I can't say I didn't see that one coming." Ella laughs, "I mean they flirt all the time."  
"What?"  
"Come on, the witty banter, the teasing, and the playing with each other's hair..."  
Briar frowns. Was that flirting?  
Snow takes one look at Briar's confused expression and sighs.

"Please explain to Briar that she and Phillip flirt all the time," she says to Florian, who has just arrived with her drink.  
He frowns, "I think that, for once, you're wrong, Snow. That is how Phillip flirts." Florian points to Phillip a few seats away, joking around with some ditzy Hufflepuff.  
Briar doesn't catch what Snow says in return. Briar feels awkward. And oddly icky about Phillip's interest in the Hufflepuff girl.  
Maybe she does fancy him a little.  
Shite.

.o.*o.O.o*.o.

Anastasia and Drizella. Of course they're here.  
Ella rises quickly from her seat, pushing past people hurriedly to find the nearest balcony. It's empty except for one person.  
"Do you mind if I hide here?" she asks, still a little out of breath.  
He turns around, and Ella immediately recognizes him. Henry Charming. Shite.  
"No," he replies politely. Even the sound of his voice gives her chills. Then he frowns, "Wait, who are you hiding from?"

She doesn't know how she's managing to speak to him. This is the guy she's fancied since they'd been potions partners in third year.  
"Nobody important, just my stepsisters," Ella says hastily, walking closer to the railing and turning her face away. Hopefully, at this angle, he won't be able to see her blush.  
"Your stepsisters are Drizella and Anastasia right?" he asks.  
She sighs, "Unfortunately."  
"I think you're lucky. I've always wanted siblings."  
Ha. Lucky? Ella had demons watching her every move, ordering her around, and downright bullying her every chance they got. She'd lost her mom before she could walk. Her dad died her second year at Hogwarts. Her stepfamily used her rightful inheritance as blackmail. She was probably the least lucky person in England. But, of course, Henry didn't know that, and there was no way she'd burden him with the knowledge.  
So she simply shrugs, "They're a bit, err, overprotective, and would not be happy to find me here."  
"So you're hiding?" he clarifies.  
She looks up at the starry sky. "Yeah."  
He frowns, "I still don't get it. What'll happen if they find you?"  
How ironic. She'd always wanted to talk to him. She never wanted to talk about this topic. He wanted to talk to her about this topic.  
He's still waiting for a reply. She keeps her face turned away.  
"They'll tell my stepmother, who'll cook up some sort of punishment," she sighs. "The last time they caught me at a party, she made me get a job at Hogsmeade during the weekends because 'if you have time to party hard you'll have time to work hard.'"  
He grimaces, "That sucks."  
Not a moment passed before he adds, "But hey, at least you got some extra money."  
She doesn't want to break his optimism, so she just nods and keeps her mouth shut. He doesn't need to know that she had to use the money for school supplies anyway.  
The next few minutes pass in silence, with Ella keeping her eyes trained on the stars. The stars…

She loved the stars. She and her dad had had this bedtime ritual where they'd name as many of the stars as they could before each making a wish on the North Star, Polaris. Back then, she'd wished for silly things: a new doll, a book or dress, a trip to the city, a better voice, to be able to stop biting her nails.  
All of those wishes came true.  
Now, none of them did. Maybe she'd used them all up. Maybe that was why her wishes couldn't stop her dad from marrying Lady Tremaine. Maybe that was why her wishes couldn't save his life.  
She can't think about all of it any longer, so she turns to Henry instead.  
His eyes are fixed on the stars, as her's had been a moment ago, but his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. Ella is ready to bet the only sickle she owns that he knows nothing about constellations.  
"You see that constellation over there?" she asks, pointing for him and hoping he doesn't notice the slight tremble in her arm.  
Henry nods, his eyes focusing in on the cluster.  
"That's Andromeda. It's my favourite."  
He grins. "It's cool. What's it supposed to be?"  
"It's the image of a princess who's chained to a rock." She takes a breath and explains the myth: how Andromeda's mother, Cassiopeia, bragged that Andromeda was even prettier than the sea nymphs, so Poseidon, the god of the sea, punished her by ravaging their city with a sea monster, how Andromeda was sacrificed to the monster but Perseus saved her.  
"And then they got married and lived happily ever after?" he asks.  
"Yeah, but they were of the few Greek couples that did. Most of them died or were punished unfairly. Anyway, this myth is probably my favourite because it gives me hope."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. No matter how bad things look there can be a way out. No matter how small of a chance there is for a happy ending, it's still possible."  
He smiles at that (he has a gorgeous smile, those damn dimples!), "It's good to be optimistic like that."  
Ella wants to point out another constellation, wants to stay here all night, but the two of them are interrupted by Drizella's triumphant "AH HA!"


End file.
